A Trace of Memory
by Like I'd Tell You
Summary: Every year, two children are selected from each of the Kingdom's districts to participate in the Shadow Games. Twenty four tributes fight. One lives. When Seto Kaiba is selected, he has no goal in mind beyond returning to his brother; however, it soon becomes apparent that destiny has something much greater in store for him... whether he likes it or not.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I'll say now, this is going to be relatively long, but you don't need to read it if you really don't want to. If, however, you have questions, I'd advise you check this before sending me a PM about them. **

**First of all, yes-this is based off the Hunger Games. I've stolen the idea of districts, and having children fight to the death, and things like escorts and stylists and much of the workup to the Games themselves. That being said, it isn't a crossover. There are no HG characters in this story, the world itself is significantly different, and the Shadow Games have their own set of rules. This story is all Yugioh, with a drastically different plot than the novels. The arc reflects the magic/spirits focus seen in Yugioh much more than it does anything Hunger Games. The world has ancient history identical to the Yugioh one, with everything that happened in Ancient Egypt remaining the same. The story itself, however, is set in a sort of dystopian society where old traditions are prominent in a highly modernized nation. **

**Honestly, the first part of this won't go into that; it'll take place heavily in the arena, much as the first Hunger Games book did. When I get to the second installment, world building will become more necessary, and the 'hows' and 'whys' will become clear. For now, the plot is more 'in the moment.'**

**One more thing, and then I'm done-please don't leave because you don't think you'll like who I'm shipping. For one, Seto Kaiba is the progonist (ish person). That should say something about the role of romance in the story. There might be pairings, maybe he'll end up with someone (I honestly don't know at this point), but it won't be a focus. Also, I probably won't take this in the direction you assume, so wait it out a while before heading off. If you just don't like the story, then well... I guess give constructive criticism and move on. **

**Sorry. That was rambly. But I guess that's the important stuff-message me or leave a review if you're still confused. Now, on to the story. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or the Hunger Games. **

**...**

**Ch.1**

**...**

******"The future** **is unlimited** and the **past** is but a **trace** of **memory**" -**Seto** **Kaiba**

******...**

He was dreaming of blue eyes again, but the sharp blare of his alarm clock forced him awake before he could understand their significance. He stayed where he was for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to reclaim the clarity that took over whenever he had that particular dream, but the moment was lost. It had faded to his subconscious, and all he had left was the memory of azure eyes and a feeling like flying.

He groaned irritably, knowing full well it was stupid to get worked up about something so trivial, but feeling disappointed all the same. His senseless obsession with those eyes tore at him, made him feel like he were missing something vital. As though he could have comprehended some magnificent truth should he have held on just a _little longer. _

_Foolishness_, Seto thought, as he finally resigned himself to waking up. _I have more important matters to worry about-_ The date hit him, and he cursed furiously. _Drastically more important matters_.

It was June 21st. The summer solstice.

The day of the Selecting Ceremony.

Dammit. Fuck it all to hell. Five years of dealing with the ceremony already, and he hadn't worried excessively about it before, but Mokuba was twelve this year. He was eligible. His brother was going to be in the pool of potential tributes.

_Fuck_.

Thoughts of his dream didn't go away entirely, clung to the edges of his brain like cobwebs, but he pushed them from his conscious mind for the moment. While he had no time in his life for idiocy such as dreams anyway, today required his focus more than any other. Not that focus would do anything, but he refused to let his thoughts wander to ridiculous things when there was a chance his brother could be taken from him.

Ra, even the thought made him ill. Briskly, hoping to distract himself from his borderline panic, Seto got to his feet and began getting ready for the day. Not that he found himself distracted at all. Not like _anything _could keep him from worrying about what might happen in only a few hours.

Mokuba. Selecting Ceremony. Today.

The thought made his stomach twist unpleasantly, affected him like little else could. Seto's hands shook so badly that he only barely managed to brush his teeth properly, and he decided not to shave at all; he had done so only yesterday, and a small amount of scruff was better than accidentally slitting his own throat.

Damn it, but he was _this close _to losing his mind with worry.

There was a chance, albeit a small one, that his brother would be taken from him before the day was out. The one thing on the entire godforsaken planet he cared about, and all it'd take was a single stroke of bad luck to send him to his death. Because Mokuba would not, could not win the Shadow Games. No matter how intelligent his brother was, no matter how competent, he was not cold-hearted, did not have the brutality necessary to let twenty-three people die to ensure his own survival.

_If he goes, he dies. _

The odds of Mokuba being selected were very low. So low that the possibility should not have warranted consideration. But the fact that there was a chance at all was terrifying.

If he lost Mokuba, he would have nothing.

His brother could not be chosen. Did not deserve to die.

"He won't be selected," murmured Seto as he dressed himself, putting on his usual black pants and black shirt before donning his trench coat as though it were a piece of armor. Once ready, he headed straight for the kitchen. Normally at this time, it would either be work or his home office, but everything in the district shut down for the ceremony, including District Three's electronics industry. Not that he would have gone to work anyway; spending the morning with his brother was more important than going over balance sheets and blueprints that could wait until the next day.

So instead of office work, Seto began making breakfast. He had staff to do it for him, but they had the day off like everyone else. In any case, he cooked relatively well—had learned how when he was younger. Could remember mornings spent with his mother, smiling while she helped him crack eggs, laughing as she guided him through cutting vegetables or preparing stew. Before the orphanage. Before he learned what it was like to go without, to survive off of scraps of bread and watery soup.

He exhaled, consciously making a point to repress the memories. He was wealthy now, had an endless supply of food, and while he was too prudent to take it for granted, he prepared a more extravagant meal than usual in light of the upcoming ceremony. Omelets, loaded with peppers and sausage and cheese. Fresh rolls one of his workers had bought from the bakery the day before, and a colorful bowl of fresher fruit than could normally be had in their district. Logic told him a good meal would hardly make things better if Mokuba were chosen, but Seto had a tendency to become slightly illogical where his brother was concerned.

It was just as he was placing the final touches on the meal that Mokuba entered the kitchen. He was already dressed and cleaned up, his mess of hair worked into some semblance of neatness, and his clothing impeccable. He wore the suit Seto had gotten tailored for him a handful of months ago, when he decided Mokuba was old enough to start helping out at the company. It fit him perfectly. Made the kid look older than twelve, although Seto couldn't help but notice that the apprehension currently in his eyes offset the effect almost entirely.

"Morning, Seto," said Mokuba, in a forcedly cheerful voice.

Seto pursed his lips and said evenly, "If you're going to pretend you aren't nervous, don't do it through obnoxiously chipper greetings. Act normal. Don't over-compensate." He set a plate of food in front of Mokuba. Hesitated, then placed a hand on his brother's shoulder in a rare affectionate gesture, hoping it said what he didn't quite know how to voice. "In any case, it'll do you no good to worry now. Being nervous does not reduce your chances of being chosen."

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "You're doing it wrong. This is where normal people say 'It'll be okay; there's no reason to worry. You won't get picked.'"

Seto did not bother with a response as he took a seat across from his brother; Mokuba knew better than to expect that from him.

"I know, I know," said Mokuba. "You aren't one for mindless platitudes. But I'm just… What if I _am_ selected? I don't know how to survive. I can't…"

Helplessness threatened to choke Seto. He looked at his plate.

"I will not lie to you. I refuse tell you that everything is going to be okay, or that you have no reason to be nervous, because the words would be empty. There is nothing I can say to comfort you, because nothing can be said." He exhaled sharply, then admitted the painful truth that troubled him most. "I cannot protect you from this."

Mokuba said nothing.

"Eat."

"Not hungry."

Seto took a deep breath. He didn't have the foggiest idea how to reassure someone, not even to his brother, but he would try his damned best for Mokuba.

"There are approximately two hundred thousand people in District Three. Roughly twenty-percent are between the ages of twelve and eighteen—that's forty-thousand people. Assuming that males and females are divided evenly, there are an estimated twenty-thousand different names that could be selected for each gender. That means each individual person has a .005 percent chance of being chosen. It's just simple math, and the person who is eventually selected will have had the same odds as everyone else, but—perhaps you will find it reassuring."

"Seto…"

"Eat, Mokuba," he repeated, more forcefully.

"Thank you."

Seto inclined his head slightly in response. He waited, watching his brother like a hawk until he younger boy began to eat. Then he started on his own meal.

The two finished their breakfast without another word. Mokuba's silence likely came from nerves. Seto's, however, was entirely because he knew nothing he said could ever encompass the maelstrom of worry and love and panic that was currently seizing his heart.

…

They left for the square shortly before one o'clock.

It had already been set up for the Selecting Ceremony the day before, by a squad of Capitol employees who came early solely to complete the task. A large fire pit was erected in the middle, though no flames had yet been conjured. Behind the pit, Maximillian Pegasus sat on his special chair, legs crossed and expression one of nothing less than pure giddiness. He chatted amicably with Joey Wheeler, District Three's single living victor.

The blond had won two years ago when he was just fifteen, in a manner about as un-District Three as possible. He'd been dirt poor when selected, and had gotten through the Games with little more than stubbornness and pure grit. He wasn't an idiot, and his spirit monster had been one of the most powerful Seto had ever seen, but he was also obnoxious. Seto supposed he should've had some sort of pride in the boy for bringing the district 'honor,' but the mutt's abrasive personality had always rubbed him the wrong way, to the point where Seto preferred muting the television whenever he appeared on screen.

With one more glance at Wheeler—_Ra, _he felt sorry for the poor bastard who'd have to deal with that ass as a mentor—Seto returned his attention to the man running the check-in desks. He made sure Mokuba got through first, then gave his own name and let them prick his finger for the blood sample. They waited a second for everything to be confirmed, and then a peacekeeper waved them through.

_Time to separate. _

With as reassuring an expression as he could manage, Seto knelt in front of his brother and put both hands on his shoulders. Looked him right in the eye.

"No matter what happens, remember who you are, Mokuba. Remember that you are strong."

"I will. I promise," said Mokuba. "And Seto? Please, worry about yourself. If you get chosen…"

Seto leaned forward. Rested his forehead against his brother's. There was nothing he could say to Mokuba's words, so instead he settled for a low, sincere, "I love you, Mokuba."

"I love you too, Seto." His voice broke.

Seto Kaiba took a moment to steel his features before hugging his brother once more, and backing away.

Then they had to leave each other. A peacekeeper nudged him one way, while Mokuba was led the opposite, towards where the group of twelve-year-old boys were standing. Seto watched him for as long as he could, until his head of thick dark hair disappeared into the crowd. As the final stragglers arrived and the ceremony began, Seto craned his neck as subtly as possible, trying to catch sight of him, but his brother was lost. Too short, too small.

_I'll find him after the ceremony. _

The thought was not at all reassuring.

"Welcome, all you honored citizens," said Pegasus. "I hope you are excited for the 374th Shadow Games."

Not one person in the crowd shared his enthusiasm.

"As I am sure you know, the time has come to determine which eligible young man and woman possess souls most pleasing to the gods, to be offered up as a sacrifice to the Kingdom and its exalted king." He gave an excited squeal that made Seto's blood curdle, then clapped his hands together excitedly. "Now, I believe it is time to begin. Ladies first!"

He all but skipped to the fire pit and began eagerly throwing things inside, whispering incantations and 'invoking the knowledge of the gods.' The process never was explained, and Seto figured the lack of clarification meant the tributes were ultimately selected by chance—that the fire and incantations were nothing more than a cheap parlor trick to make the process itself look more flashy. Cheap trick or not, however, the overall effect _was _rather impressive. As Pegasus finished, pillars of flame rose unnaturally high from the pit, lapping hungrily at the sky.

More mumbling from Pegasus. The flames grew even larger.

"The tribute is-" A frown. The fire turned blue, and then pure white, and murmurs broke out amongst the crowd. Even Seto tensed. That had never happened before. He stared disbelievingly, wondering at what could possibly cause the change—especially when Pegasus's startled expression suggested even he had not expected the anomaly—but the flames flickered back to normal before he could give the matter any further thought.

Flustered, Pegasus cleared his throat.

"My apologies for the… mishap. As I was saying, the female tribute is _Serenity Wheeler." _

Seto's eyes flashed to where Joey Wheeler was sitting on the stage. He knew the girl was the mutt's sister from the interviews that were held towards the end of the Games, and he was also aware that the boy had spoken very, very highly of her. In fact, his devotion to the chit was the single area in which Seto had held any sort of respect for him.

It wasn't surprising to see him tense in his seat as though he'd been slapped. His face turned nearly purple with outrage, and Seto didn't miss the way two peacekeepers stepped forward and put restraining hands on his shoulders, obviously warning him against acting out. Joey snarled something Seto couldn't hear, but his words must've been met with some sort of subsequent threat, because his flushed face turned ghost white and he slumped back into his chair.

Seto studied him a moment longer, then turned his gaze to the girl who'd been chosen. He might have remembered her existence from the interviews, but he hadn't paid enough attention to truly recall what she looked like, or anything of her personality beyond that he'd found her to be painfully spineless. What little he remembered proved to be correct, because the small, dainty-looking redhead didn't have the mind to hide her terror as she walked to the stage. There were no tears and he could tell she was making an effort to keep her head held high, but her hands were shaking visibly, and her expression wasn't as stoic as he expected she thought it was.

When Pegasus grabbed her hand and held it to the sky as he introduced her, as he gushed over having another Wheeler in the Games, she stared out at the crowd with wide gray eyes, appearing as though she were moments from throwing up.

"Serenity Wheeler, ladies and gentleman. Oh, this year is already looking to be one to remember!" Then he dropped her hand and stepped forward once more, going on excitingly, "Now, let us see if the second tribute is as _fabulous _as the first."

More muttering, more stupid, probably fake magic. The flames remained normal for a moment, but soon flashed blue, then white again, this time more intensely than they had for the Wheeler girl. Pegasus gave a frightened gasp and jumped backwards as sparks threatened to burn him, and Seto smirked, almost forgetting his consuming fear for Mokuba's life as he watched the idiot try to compose himself.

"I- I apologize… The spirits are simply _very _excited!" Pegasus tried shakily, in a voice even more grating than usual to make up for his uncertainty. "U-um, the male tribute for this year is… _ooh." _The fear subsided, and something like genuine fascination flashed through his eyes. Kaiba's breath hitched, and all he could think in that instant was _not Mokuba, not Mokuba, anyone but Mokuba. _"Seto Kaiba."

He froze, his teeth gritting together, hands clenching into fists as reality hit him hard and fast. Oh, there was relief, a brief moment of time where he was glad that it was him and not his brother, but then the other emotions hit. Fear that he did not let himself dwell on. Worry about how Mokuba would survive should he not come home.

Then determination.

Determination that he would not allow his brother to lose the last of his family. Determination that he would not die, that he would not let himself be defeated by weaklings who did not know the meaning of strength. Determination that he would come home to take care of Mokuba.

Determination that he would _win_.

He had already dealt with enough trauma, enough adversity, that after the initial shock, Seto was able to quickly restore his focus. First and foremost, he had to make a good impression—had to present himself in a way that would get him fans and get him sponsors. He had to be _strong. _

Not difficult. He'd spent the past five years of his life purging himself of every weakness he could.

Back straight, head held high, face an impassive mask—as though he did not care he had been chosen, as though he were not worried in the least about losing—Seto strode to the stage amidst the murmurs of the rest of the district. Some expressed shock that Three's most famous non-victor had been chosen, others venomously declared that the greedy Capitol lapdog had gotten what was coming for him, and a handful voiced regret that such a promising genius was possibly going to die so young.

He ignored them all as he took his place next to the Wheeler girl. Pegasus moved to take his arm, but Seto glared him down until the twit scampered away to conclude the ceremony. He glanced at the Wheeler chit, wondering if she were going to expect him to do the traditional handshake, but she wasn't looking at him. Her hands were folded together in front of her, her eyes cast on the ground so intently he wasn't sure she even knew he was there.

Well, at least it appeared she would not be as abrasive as her brother, if only because she didn't have the backbone for it. She seemed very… _sweet _as well, and the role Joey had placed her in during his Games—the one of a younger sibling in need of protecting—had Seto feeling a small amount of sympathy for her. Not enough that he would have second thoughts about killing her if necessary, but he'd try to avoid putting himself in a situation where doing so would be expected. Staying away from her would probably make the most sense strategically as well. Wheeler would almost certainly pour any sponsor money he had into his sister while the girl was still alive, but nothing said he wouldn't be willing to use his funds on Seto after her inevitable death. Not so long as Seto avoided taking the chit's life himself.

Seto was forced to table his contemplations when Pegasus finally concluded the ceremony, and escorted he and Serenity off the stage. She gravitated towards her brother as soon as she was able, leaving Seto to follow behind. He watched with something between empathy and disgust as they comforted each other, empathy because he knew he'd be doing the exact same thing if it were him and Mokuba, and disgust because _Ra_, couldn't the chit hold it together until the cameras were off her? He'd almost say she were _trying_ to appear weak if she hadn't given him the exact same impression of uselessness when he'd seen her on screen two years ago.

It was almost laughable, how pathetic she was.

Pegasus led them inside the Justice Building, where Seto was taken to a private room. Mokuba rushed inside only moments later, his face stoic as could be expected, but he couldn't quite hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. It looked like he'd been punched in the face and was trying to be tough about it. For all their sappy talk before the Ceremony, neither had _really _expected one of them to get chosen.

"S-Seto," Mokuba cried. He wrapped his arms around his waist, and Seto held the boy close to him. This would be the last he'd see of his brother for at least several weeks. He'd have to make the most of it.

"Don't look so upset," said Seto, as gently as he was able. "I'm strong, Mokuba. I will be back." He stroked his brother's hair comfortingly, as he used to do when they were at the orphanage and Mokuba would cry to him about how cruel the other children were. The memory brought a sad smile to his face. He'd been his brother's caretaker for so long… the niggling worry of how Mokuba would take it should he not come back appeared once more, but he pushed it back. There was no doubt in his mind that he _would _survive, no matter what he had to give up to do so.

"D-do you promise?"

Seto swallowed. He never made promises he might not be able to keep. And he knew, knew in his gut, that there was a chance he wouldn't get home. Bad luck, stupid circumstance, a vindictive Gamemaker.

It wouldn't take much to end his existence permanently.

He didn't say this, however. For the first time he could remember, he ignored his reluctance to give empty reassurance and say firmly, "I promise."

Mokuba managed a sad smile. "Then I believe you."

And he did. Seto knew that. His brother would always believe him, would never doubt his word, and that was more motivation to get home than anything.

He couldn't let Mokuba down.

"Stay with Roland when I'm gone," he said gruffly, because there were important things he needed to say and he was in danger of getting lost in sentimentality. "He'll take care of you. Keep going to school, do your homework, and make sure you get enough sleep." He took a deep breath. "Roland knows what I want done with the company and should oversee things, but I trust you more than I trust him, so make sure he doesn't become too lenient."

Mokuba nodded gravely, taking in the words as though his life depended on it.

"If things get… ugly, on screen, do not feel you need to watch. I will not tell you not to, because I know you are intelligent enough to determine whether you can handle it, but do not think you need to see me get hurt, or hurt someone else, for _any _reason. Okay?"

Another nod, except this time Mokuba added in a small voice, "I want you to do _whatever _you need to get home, Seto. I won't hold anything against you. Just… come back."

Seto squeezed his brother closer to him, then sighed softly and stepped away.

"I've already promised." Tears pricked his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. Cleared his throat. "Mokuba…"

They looked at each other for a moment longer. Then a peacekeeper knocked on the door and said his time was up, and Seto ruffled his brother's hair one last time before he was forced to leave. Their eyes stayed connected as Mokuba backed out of the room, and then he was gone.

Seto stayed where he was and took several deep breaths to regain his composure. Fans and idiots who likely wanted nothing more than a place in his will asked to see him, but Seto had them all barred in favor of a few moments to himself.

By the time Pegasus came to fetch him, his face was stony once more. The time for emotion was through, and now he could focus all his attention on coming out on top.

Because he'd promised Mokuba, and if nothing else, Seto Kaiba _refused _to break a promise to his little brother.

…

Pegasus escorted him to a waiting car outside. Seto was met with flashing cameras and a flock of reporters, but he ignored them for the most part. Some tributes went out of their way to come across as charming, but he'd hardly have to bother with such stupidity. His natural demeanor was frightening enough that he wouldn't have to change at all to attract sponsors; acting cold and calculating was as easy for him as breathing, and he had enough charisma to pull off the angle without appearing unlikable.

Already, when he flashed an enigmatic smirk as he slid into the car, the camera flashes doubled in intensity, the reporters breaking into excited whispers as they discussed what the expression might mean.

No, it wouldn't be difficult at all to appease the morons who populated the Capitol.

The Wheeler girl was already in the vehicle when he entered, along with her irritating brother. Seto resisted the urge to comment on how pathetic the two of them looked, both teary-eyed and clinging to the other. He refused to outright play nice, but staying off the Wheelers' bad side was in his best interest if he wanted the mutt's eventual support. He didn't quite have it in him to play likable, but avoiding cruel comments would hopefully keep him from making an enemy he couldn't afford.

The car pulled up to the train station before long, and Pegasus hustled all of them onto the train. Serenity gasped as she took in her luxurious surroundings, obviously unused to the level of extravagance even with a victor for a brother, but Seto was not nearly as impressed. Much of his work was done in Capitol-constructed buildings, so he wasn't exactly struck speechless by a few superfluous frills, and he was hardly in danger of being awed by the train's advanced technology when he'd designed more sophisticated machinery before his eleventh birthday.

Serenity opened her mouth, as though intending to comment on the train, but Pegasus began speaking before she could, launching into a speech about the generosity of King Bakura, and how wonderful their accommodations would be throughout their stay in the Capitol.

"I'm sure you've never seen anything quite like this before," he said, as he led them towards their separate rooms. "It's quite impressive, isn't it?"

"The engines are outdated," Seto said, unable to help himself. "I've overseen the creation of newer models that don't make half so much noise. I'd also estimate that this train uses at least five percent more fuel than is strictly necessary due to dated technology. Impressive?" He scoffed. "My twelve-year-old brother could create something more impressive in his sleep."

The male Wheeler snickered, while the female looked slightly uncomfortable, as though unsure of how to react to Seto's vindictiveness. He sent a smirk in her direction, and she glared back with all the ferocity of a week-old kitten. Her attempt at fierceness was almost as amusing as Pegasus's spluttering.

"Yes, well," said Pegasus after a moment, finally regaining some semblance of composure. "You _are _only from the districts, so it's hardly likely you'd receive the _best _the Capitol has to offer."

"I guess the king's generosity has limits, then," Seto replied dryly.

"Of course- Wait, I mean, _that's not_… Come with me," he demanded, his good humor evidently up. Seto chuckled to himself when Pegasus herded him into the first room they came across, apparently not wanting to deal with him any longer.

The room itself was surprisingly nice, though nothing overly surprising. Thick carpet, large bed, and a panel on the wall off which he could order a wide variety of food. There was a touch of superfluous extravagance that he found irritatingly tacky, but it certainly could have been worse. The bathroom especially was impressive, and Seto had to admit it was the nicest he'd seen in his life. The clothes that had been supplied for him were of undeniable quality as well.

Knowing that he had a fair amount of time until supper, Seto headed to the bathroom to shower, well aware that it was essential his appearance be impeccable from that point forward. He spent slightly more time cleaning himself than necessary, taking a few moments to let the hot water relax his muscles before drying himself and dressing in a pair of black pants and a button up shirt. He acknowledged that it was best he lost the trench coat, but found a suit jacket to take its place, unwilling to part with the security of another layer of fabric. He would have to do so eventually, he was aware, but he wanted to retain that small amount of comfort for the time being.

By the time he finished, it was nearly time for supper. Seto ran into Pegasus halfway to the dining car, and they walked in silence the rest of the way, Pegasus still obviously too offended by Seto's earlier comments to maintain his usual stream of chatter.

Serenity and Joey were already starting on their meal when they arrived. Seto noted that Joey was filling his sister's plate for her, while she watched with slightly narrowed eyes, obviously irritated that he didn't let her do it herself but unwilling to do anything about it. Seto bit back the urge to make a comment about the male's thick-headedness and the female's lack of spine—_You can't afford to make Wheeler your enemy_—and settled instead for silently loading his own plate with food, taking care to select the healthiest options available, and in larger quantities than he would have otherwise. Seto had a habit of ignoring eating in favor of more important things, but he'd have to make a point of consuming as many calories as possible in the week leading up to the Games. While battling spirit monsters was certainly the most notorious part of the Shadow Games, survival was every bit as important. It was unlikely he'd have a consistent supply of food in the arena, so he'd do well to put on weight while he still could.

"So… w-what do you think it means?" Serenity asked hesitantly, after several minutes of silence.

Seto continued eating for a moment before he realized the chit was speaking to him. He was tempted to ignore her, but forced himself to drawl with barely concealed impatience, "What do I think _what_ means?"

She coughed. "T-the blue fire." She was speaking to her plate instead of to him, and it was annoying as hell. "O-or the white fire." Her eyes flashed briefly to Pegasus. "I-it isn't supposed to do that, r-right?"

Pegasus cleared his throat.

"It isn't _supposed _to do anything, dear girl. The fire does what the gods command of it."

"T-then why was it different?"

The escort didn't have an answer for that, and Serenity looked back towards Seto, obviously wanting him to say something. He swallowed the food in his mouth and replied coolly, "I highly doubt it means anything at all. The Capitol likely used something to alter the flames and neglected to notify this moron," he nodded towards Pegasus, "to make his reaction more realistic." His voice turned spiteful. "I imagine it was a publicity stunt."

"The _gods_ do not care for publicity. I imagine the fire had a greater meaning that will reveal itself in time," declared Pegasus emphatically.

It took everything Seto had not to say where the so-called 'gods' could shove their greater meaning. He'd never believed that they were real, had always thought the mysterious but never named figures were merely entities dreamt up by the earliest ruler of the Kingdom to justify his cruelty and keep the people in line. He'd divided the districts and reduced them to poverty, and no one had questioned it because _the gods _said it must be. He'd enslaved much of District Thirteen and wiped out the rest because _the gods _had told him to. And now, the current king maintained the tradition of the Shadow Games because _the gods _declared the sacrifice necessary to make up for past wrongs of the districts.

The gods were nothing more than a tool to keep power in the king's hands, and if Seto wasn't certain the room was being monitored by people who'd call his thoughts treasonous and kill him the moment he stepped into the arena, he wouldn't have hesitated in tearing apart Pegasus's worshipful infatuation with the nonexistent beings.

"I think you should ignore it for now," said Wheeler, speaking up for the first time, likely in response to the scathing contempt in Seto's expression. "Pegasus is right; if the odd fire meant anything, we won't know about it until the time is right."

"I… I guess. I was just thinking, I've been having dreams… and I can't remember much, but there are always blue eyes in them, like the color of the fire." Serenity went crimson and snuck another glance at Seto. "Blue eyes like his."

His heart stopped in his chest, and for a moment Seto did not know what to think. There was no way that she'd been sharing his dreams, it had to be coincidence, but the odds of both of them dreaming about blue eyes—eyes that he now realized _were _similar to his own, that were nearly the same color as the fire had turned earlier—were astronomically low.

Seto stared at Serenity, wondering if she'd remembered anything more from the dreams than he had, if maybe she'd captured the significance in those blue eyes that he always seemed to miss, before he realized that Wheeler and Pegasus were both looking at him oddly. He quickly schooled his features, and glared irritably at both men.

"_What_?" he snapped coolly, but not cruelly—he wouldn't let his irritation lose him ground with the mutt—"So the chit is dreaming about my eyes. That sounds more like a stupid crush than anything of significance."

The mutt's face went red, and he snarled, "Like she'd ever have a crush on an unfeeling piece of shit like you, Moneybags."

"_Joey_," said Serenity. "He's just saying what he thinks. And he's probably right." She ducked her head. "N-not about the c-crush, but about it not being important."

"Either way," announced Pegasus, "you should control your temper, Joseph. It's unbecoming to lose control in such a manner."

Seto would have smirked at Wheeler's fury had his eyes not caught with the girl's. She had no talent whatsoever at guarding her thoughts, and Seto could see in her expression that she'd been blatantly lying to get her brother away from the subject. She suspected that Seto wasn't as ignorant as he was pretending, and he almost thought she might've worked up the stones to press the matter had there been no one else around.

Whatever she thought of her dreams, it was _not _that they were unimportant.

Seto disagreed, refused to believe that anything of real value could come from something as silly as a dream, but he also had to acknowledge that _something _was going on. He wouldn't dwell on it, but ignoring the matter wasn't an option.

He'd keep his eyes open, would maybe take the time to discuss the issue with the girl should the opportunity arise. Until then, he refused to waste any of his energy worrying about something so uselessly abstract.

"Fine. We'll forget about it for now," Joey said tightly. "The Selecting Ceremonies for the other districts are due on any second anyway." He got to his feet. "Sis." His voice darkened. "Moneybags. This way."

So much for staying on Wheeler's good side; seemed the mutt disliked him already. Possibly for the comment about his sister crushing on him, more likely from the fact that he'd be in a position to kill the girl by time the week was out, and quite probably—_most _probably—from old prejudices against the Kaiba family. Not that the prejudices weren't warranted; Gozaburo was the scum of the earth, and though he hated to acknowledge it, Seto himself was forced to be every bit the Capitol lapdog people saw him as.

That didn't mean he appreciated the mutt's attitude.

"I hardly find your abrasive behavior necessary," commented Seto, as he made his way out of the dining car. "I've hardly done anything to warrant it."

Wheeler snorted. "Your reputation precedes you, Kaiba. You're a known ass, and the only reason you're being less of a heartless dick than usual is that you know you need my help. Forgive me for not playing along."

Seto was almost impressed. So the moron wasn't such a moron after all.

"It doesn't mean I'm not putting forth the effort, _mutt_. You should try doing the same."

"I have one priority this year, and it ain't you, Kaiba. Give me one reason why I should bother pretending I _don't _hate you."

He eyed Wheeler shrewdly.

"Because in only a few days, I'm going to be in a position to _kill your sister. _If we end this week enemies, I'd have no reason not to do it—not when I'd know I wouldn't get any help from you either way." He let that sink in, then went on slowly, as though explaining something to a small child, "But if I think you might be willing to treat me as your second priority, there's a good chance I'd make it a point not to kill her. Not when I'd know it would lose me any chance of receiving outside help."

Wheeler narrowed his eyes.

"You realize I'd only help you if something happened to her, and since _nothing _is going to hurt-"

Seto cut him off with a laugh. "You don't _know _that. Something might_. _And in the event that it does, I want every resource possibly put into getting _me_ home." He glanced at Serenity. "Use _logic. _You treat me with some modicum of good breeding, and she loses one very dangerous enemy. But let pride get the best of you, and there's a _very_ good chance I'll hunt her down out of spite." That wasn't true, but Wheeler didn't need to know that. "Think about what, exactly, that means, and then reevaluate whether you think it's a good idea to get on my bad side."

The mutt made a low, growling noise under his breath that was appropriate enough to almost have Seto laughing out loud, but he did mutter a gruff, "I'll think about it."

"See that you do."

They soon arrived at a different car, this one with a large television screen and several leather couches, and the discussion was dropped as they turned their focus towards the recap of the Selecting Ceremonies. Seto analyzed each tribute as they were called, but marked only a few as important enough to pay a significant amount of attention to. Both from One were good-looking enough to get significant attention from sponsors, while Ushio, a beast of a boy from District Two, certainly held the potential to be a physical danger. The male from Four was built athletically and appeared somewhat competent, while a young girl from Five had a kind of shrewd intelligence in her eyes that he'd have to watch out for.

The remaining tributes were seemingly unexceptional, but Seto vowed to keep an eye on them as well, knowing that it wasn't uncommon for a dark horse to emerge from one of the lower districts and catch the others off guard.

Still, even if someone unexpected did come up, Seto wasn't exceptionally worried. The fact of the matter was that the other tributes were all _kids. _Even the behemoth from District Two was a boy. Seto hadn't considered himself anything less than an adult since his parents died and he'd started taking care of Mokuba. He was a genius, he knew how to defend himself, and more than that, he knew what it took to survive against the harshest odds.

His victory was by no means guaranteed, but he certainly had an advantage over the gaggle of ignorant children he would be fighting against. Even the announcers marked him as the most dangerous tribute by far.

Out of all the tributes, he was in the best position to hold the most cards going in; already, it seemed the Games were largely histo win or lose.

Wheeler had apparently reached the same conclusion, because when he looked at the blond after the male from Twelve had been selected, his face was less antagonistic than it'd been when they entered the room. It appeared all he'd needed to see sense was a reminder of how obviously dangerous Seto was in comparison with the other tributes.

"The first set of odds will be out tomorrow," said Wheeler slowly, "and there's a good chance you'll be at the top."

"Naturally," Seto replied.

"You'll get sponsors, unless you really blow this next week."

"Most likely."

"You're an ass, but you're an ass who knows what he's doing."

"That's the most intelligent thing you've said all evening."

Wheeler huffed a sigh.

"Fine." He looked at Seto. "I won't make you into an enemy; so long as you keep from acting like an asshole, I'll pretend you don't disgust me." His expression turned hard. "In return, you stay away from Serenity, and I'll keep my dislike from interfering with my job as mentor. Good enough?"

"Yes." He looked to Serenity, who'd seemed content to stay out of the discussion. "That doesn't mean it'd be smart for you to get in my way, or that I won't hurt you if you get it into your head to try taking me out. Understood?"

Serenity looked slightly surprised at being addressed directly, but nodded.

"I won't try to hurt you… and I'll stay away. I don't want us to have to fight." She looked at her lap, then added softly, "I tutored your brother in English last year. He's nice. If I don't get home, I want you to. So you can get back to him."

Seto's eyes narrowed with suspicion, but her face was open, and the compassion in her eyes genuine. She really was _that _soft.

He ignored the way something in his chest shifted at the thought, blatantly disregarded any semblance of warmth he felt at her kind sentiment, and settled for a brusque nod in her direction.

"I'm glad we've reached an understanding," he said coolly, before turning on a heel and briskly exiting the room. The discussion with Wheeler had gone better than planned, and all things considered, he was in as favorable a position as could've been expected.

At that point, there was little else he could've asked for.

…

...

**Author's Note: **

**So that was... a very big chapter, and though I proofread, odds are there's something I missed. In other words, if there are mistakes, typos, things you don't like-tell me. Can't guarantee I'll change the latter, but I'd appreciate knowing either way. I've got this plotted out in the more general way, but not really written, so updates won't be any quicker than once a week. Support and comments would be a big motivator for quickness, however, and reassurance that this plot isn't a complete dud would also be appreciated. I've never quite seen anything done like this before, so I'm a bit worried whether people will even like it. **

**Alright, that's all I have to say. I promise I'll refrain from huge author's notes like I did at the start from this point forward. **

**Please tell me what you think :), **

**LITY**


	2. Chapter 2

Seto jerked awake the next morning with tears in his eyes and his heart thudding against his ribcage. The dream had been… different, slightly. The eyes were still there, but instead of flying, it felt as though something meaningful had been taken from him and he couldn't remember what it was. For a long time he sat in bed, struggling to convince himself that the nightmare was a psychological aftershock of being chosen, but he couldn't ignore the feeling in his gut that told him it was more than that.

More than that, but still not important. He hastily wiped the tears off his face, embarrassed by his own weakness, and quickly climbed out of bed, his features already schooled into an emotionless mask. He wondered briefly whether Serenity Wheeler had dreamt about the same thing he had, but did his best to ignore his curiosity. The matter was inconsequential, and in light of everything else, dreams were the very last thing he should've been concerned about.

Resolved to forget the issue entirely, Seto procured a new outfit from his wardrobe and dressed himself carefully. He chose mainly dark colors, hoping the ensemble would add to the intimidating persona he hoped to project, and quickly exited the room, telling himself it was because he was hungry and not due to lingering discomfort over the dream.

When he entered the dining car, it was to find that it was still empty. The table had already been topped with more food than four people could ever hope to eat, however, and Seto grabbed a plate and filled it with as much as he figured he could consume. He poured himself a steaming cup of coffee as well, allowing himself a pleased smirk when he took a sip. Even the best coffee that District Three imported was of a dubious quality. Seto still drank it for the much-needed caffeine, but he found it watery and tasteless.

The variety on the train was perfect—the kind that was generally only served at meetings with his 'superiors' from the Capitol.

At least he now had something to look forward to over the course of the next week, even if it was only a consistent supply of decent coffee.

Serenity Wheeler showed up several minutes after Seto, wearing a flowing white sundress. Her hair was pulled back from her face by a pale green ribbon, and Seto acknowledged that she'd dressed herself well. While Seto was made for the role of competent strategist, the Wheeler girl's greatest asset was her sweet, arguably 'likable' personality, and her clothing choice played up the angle perfectly.

"Good morning," she said, this time almost managing to establish eye-contact. She even had a smile on her face, the expression almost startling in its innocent sincerity. "How did you sleep?"

His eyes narrowed, and he wondered for a moment whether she knew about his dream. He hesitated imperceptibly, but decided the question seemed innocent and replied with a disinterested, "Well enough."

The chit nodded, and thankfully had the tact not to try starting an actual conversation. Rather, she silently began filling her own plate with food. He watched her surreptitiously, his brows rising infinitesimally when he realized that she was copying his choices exactly. Either she had less of her own mind than he thought, or he hadn't given her enough credit.

Remembering the indignant expression on her face when the mutt had attempted to help her with her plate the evening before, Seto assumed it was the latter. She didn't want someone making her choices for her, but she was intelligent enough to see when it might benefit her to learn from someone else. If she didn't know what all the food on the table was, or what was best for her to eat, it made sense that she'd imitate someone who likely would.

Seto might've considered offering a compliment if her brother hadn't entered then, looking like he hadn't slept at all the night before. His hair was tousled and dark-circles ringed his eyes, although it did appear he'd at least bothered to put some effort into his clothing. Looking nice wasn't as important for him as it was for Seto or Serenity, but the mutt would likely be doing his best to make a good impression on potential sponsors for his sister's sake. Seto was grateful that meant spending more time on personal hygiene than he likely would've otherwise.

He wouldn't have appreciated having to worry about picking up fleas on top of everything else.

"So," said Wheeler, after he'd started eating. "Since I've agreed not to toss rich boy on the backburner, I suppose I ought to impart my knowledge to _both of you_." He made a face. "Much as I'd prefer otherwise."

Seto held back the urge to comment that he doubted Wheeler could tell him anything he couldn't have figured out himself. The mutt was keeping up his end of the bargain, and Seto wouldn't be the one to ruin their tentative understanding.

In any case, he'd be able to put the mangy mutt in his place as much as he liked once he was out of the arena.

"What an honor," Seto drawled.

Wheeler ignored him.

"The most important thing at this point," he said, "is to do whatever you're told without complaining. First thing when get to the Capitol, you'll meet with the Holder of the Rod." Wheeler snickered at the title, and Seto rolled his eyes; it was reassuring to know his mentor had all the maturity of a thirteen-year-old. "He'll determine and seal your spirit monster. That bit is quick and painless; it's the next part you'll have to worry about." Wheeler's mouth turned up into a smirk, and he looked directly at Seto when he said, "_That's_ when you meet with your stylists. I can guarantee they'll do things you won't like." His eyes were practically shining. "And you have no choice but to _let them_."

Seto glared at his plate. He'd been loosely aware of what would happen, but didn't like the reminder. People didn't touch him. It was a rule. Now he'd have to let a gaggle of morons of the Capitol—strangers, at that—work him over like a piece of meat. There were no words to describe how irritated he was at the notion of having to suffer through the indignity, but refusing was hardly an option. Wheeler was right—he'd have to let the bastards do whatever they wanted.

"That's pretty much it for now." He took a swig of juice. "There's not much advice I can give until you get your spirit monsters figured out. Kaiba—keep acting like an ass, and I'm sure the idiots in the Capitol will work themselves into a tizzy over your dark, mysterious self. And 'Ren, remember what we talked about earlier." He got to his feet. "We should be there in a few minutes. Finish eating and grab anything you wanna take with you. Pegasus is probably finishing with his makeup, but he'll be out before long, to make sure you get to where you need to be."

Serenity giggled, and Seto couldn't quite hold back a smirk as Wheeler exited the room. Apparently humor at Pegasus's expense transcended the bounds of even the most inherent dislike.

"I hope I get a decent spirit monster," Serenity said in the silence that followed her brother's departure. "It kind of ruins everything if I don't."

She was right. Spirit monsters were the basis of the Shadow Games. The costumes the tributes wore throughout the week leading up to the Games were determined by their monsters. Betting, while influenced by age, physical characteristics, attractiveness and personality, was most heavily determined by the apparent strength and abilities of a tribute's monster. Most importantly, however, they were the only monsters the tributes had to summon at the beginning of the Games, as well as the only ones that could be used more than once.

Tributes who received weak monsters never lasted long. They struggled to attract sponsors, and had no chance of holding their own against more powerful competition.

Seto assumed his monster would be strong simply because he himself was powerful. Spirit monsters reflected a person's inherent strengths, and Seto had enough of them—intelligence, power, determination—that he imagined he'd have something fairly powerful to work with.

He was also certain that the Wheeler girl's creature wouldn't be hopeless. It was impossible to forget the startling red-eyed dragon that had served as her brother's monster; Yugi Muto's Dark Magician had closely rivaled its strength, but hadn't seen another in his lifetime that could compare.

If there was anything of her brother in her at all, Serenity's monster would be fairly strong.

He didn't say this, instead offering only a noncommittal grunt in response. It was her brother's job to reassure the chit. Not his.

"I think," Serenity went on in a slightly lower voice, "that my monster might have something to do with the dreams I've been having. Sometimes it feels like I'm flying, and… I wonder if my spirit monster can't fly." She saw the look he was giving her, and quickly looked away, her eyes settling on the windows of the train instead. "Oh, look. The Capitol."

Seto studied her for a moment, trying to decide whether he should speak up now that she'd mentioned another parallel between their dreams, but she took the choice out of his hands when she got to her feet and wandered over to the window. He reluctantly trailed after her. People would be watching the trains enter the city, and it was in his best interests to make an appearance.

The writhing masses that crowded the streets of the city disgusted him, but Seto maintained an expression of apathetic disinterest as he peered out the window, knowing there was a fine line between appearing intimidating and appearing cruel. He could be scary in a way that made him seem threatening towards the other tributes, but he'd lose a lot of support if he came anywhere near offending the fops in the Capitol.

Appealing a notion as he found glaring until the fools wet themselves, it wasn't a pleasure he could afford.

Seto resisted the urge to scowl. He couldn't afford to piss of the Wheelers, couldn't afford to disobey the stylists, couldn't afford to hurt the Capitol shits' feelings.

For being the richest man in District Three, he couldn't afford much of fucking anything.

"I don't like them," Serenity admitted softly. The sweet smile she'd worn to breakfast that morning was faltering, and even though she was trying to wave at the people cheering, he imagined that even the Capitol idiots could see the reluctance of the gesture. She was a genuine person, he realized. No talent at all at pretending to be anything other than what she was, and unfortunately for her, she wasn't the type to work large crowds or captivate a nation.

She was nice. Somewhat intelligent, a little too tentative, and _nice. _

It was unfortunate for her that nice people rarely got far in life.

"I can tell," Seto drawled. He didn't add that she should do a better job at pretending, but she seemed to understand all the same. Her lips turned up just a little more at the corners, and her waving became more enthusiastic, although Seto could easily tell the added cheer was forced.

Within minutes, the train slowed to a stop in an underground lot, and Pegasus appeared to escort them to their destination. He'd regained some of the enthusiasm that Seto had crushed the day before, and they were forced to listen to him blabber about how excited he was to see what their stylists would do to them.

Pegasus took them first to a small room with two large stones propped against the back wall. A blond boy in a long velvet cloak leaned against the wall, waiting for them with a touch of impatience. A slender golden object that Seto recognized as the Millennium Rod dangled idly from his fingers. Seto remembered hearing somewhere that the tributes arrived at twenty minute intervals, to ensure that the Holder of the Rod could visit them all without causing overt delays. He was relatively sure the process was something that could be repeated by anyone, and with far less ceremony, but the Capitol seemed insistent that only Marik Ishtar—the Holder—could properly use the Rod.

He found the claim that only the boy in front of him was able to use the Item very doubtful. If the young, wild-haired blond could manage it, it was likely anyone else with half a brain would be able to do so as well. If anything, Seto thought Marik looked too naïve to be handling a powerful magical artifact, but he reminded himself that this was one of those times when it was necessary to keep his mouth shut and accept whatever happened without complaint.

If he didn't have Mokuba to get back to, he probably wouldn't have bothered repressing his skepticism, but as it was, he was determined to do whatever it took to help him keep his promise.

Apparently including feigning respect for a kid who didn't know how to use a comb.

"Seto, Serenity," Marik said smoothly when he saw them. "Finally, you are here. My sister told me to expect your arrival when I was just a child." He smiled. "I've spent years waiting for you."

Seto snorted. "I'm sure you have."

Marik rolled his eyes, the juvenile gesture almost absurd given the regality of his clothing, and said, "She also warned me of your skepticism, Seto Kaiba. It seems she was correct in that regard."

"Wheeler told me this would be quick and painless. So far, I've found it nothing more than vaguely irritating." He narrowed his eyes. "If you'd do what you came here for…"

"You'd do well to learn patience," Marik commented. He shrugged. "Then again, I suppose I would as well. Fine. I will use the Millennium Rod to seal your Ka within those stone slabs." He gestured towards the stones at the back of the room. "You will then be able to summon your Ka, or spirit monster, using the DiaDhanks you'll receive before the Games. The monsters are fueled by your soul energy, or Ba. In addition to your spirit monster, you will be able to use your Ba to power various tablets you'll come across over the course of the Games. Naturally, when your Ba runs out, you lose your life. It's a relatively simple concept, but part of my job is to make sure you understand it."

"I think a four-year-old could understand it," Seto muttered.

"Serenity?" asked Marik.

"I've got it."

Marik smiled and said, "Then let's begin. Since he's so eager, I'll start first with Seto." Before Seto had the chance to even wonder what he should expect, he was enveloped by a light from Marik's Millennium Rod. There was the brief sensation of pain, like something inside him was splitting in half, followed by a fleeting feeling of hollowness, and then the light was gone and it was like nothing had happened at all.

Or it would have been, had a dark creature not been suspended in midair in front of him. It had a humanoid build, but was at least twice Seto's height, with large, bat-like wings stemming from its back. A spike-like projection branched from the back of its neck, but most noticeable was the massive sword that was held causally from one of its enormous clawed hands.

"The creature is called Duos," said Marik, his eyes distant, as though focusing on something Seto could not see, "and it grows in strength with every monster it slays." He frowned. "It is a creature not of light or darkness, but rather of justice—a rare attribute, and one that suggests that there is perhaps more to you than meets the eye." His eyes focused on reality once more. "Congratulations, Seto Kaiba. Your monster is an impressive one indeed."

Seto stared at the being a moment longer, not sure if he should be pleased or disappointed. It wasn't as immediately impressive as Wheeler's dragon had been two years ago, but it could be worse, and more than that, its potential was limitless. He'd have no problem scoping out weaker tributes and slaying their spirit monsters to make his own more powerful, and he could only imagine how fearsome the warrior would become by the end of the Games should he successfully implement that strategy.

Marik waved his rod and the warrior was sealed into the stone tablet, ending Seto's opportunity to study the monster further.

"Now for you," he said to Serenity. Once more, a flash of light erupted from the tip of the Millennium Rod. This time, however, Seto was able to see the process as it took place, could watch as the spirit monster was pulled from her body, wisps of light connecting the Ka to its source for as long as possible before Marik tore it away completely.

When the light faded, a medium-sized white dragon stood across from Serenity. It could almost be considered ungainly, with a head that was slightly too big and an odd, beak-like mouth. Its arms and legs were thin, albeit with sharp claws on the ends of its hands and feet, and its wings were connected to its body in a strangely awkward manner, by appendages that were almost arm-like in design. It was mounted by a green, scaly-skinned warrior who looked rather dragon-like itself. It donned ornate white and gold armor, with a similarly colored helmet that covered all but the very bottom of its face. In its hand was a long, thin sword that looked dangerous, if not as overtly threatening as Duos's magnificent blade.

"The Paladin of White Dragon," said Marik. His eyes had gone distant again, but he no longer appeared entirely calm, his brow furrowed as though he could not understand something, and his mouth turned noticeably downwards at the corners. "This isn't… the spirit monster is strong on its own, but there is something else—as Seto's Duos gains strength with the defeat of others, your Paladin holds the potential for more than would be expected from a typical monster. But I cannot see…"

He trailed off, obviously uncertain. Serenity appeared to be slightly thrown off as well, and though Seto supposed it didn't have anything to do with him, he found himself watching the Holder of the Rod with barely concealed interest. He'd assumed Serenity would have a decent spirit monster, but he hadn't been expecting a dragon, and certainly not a creature as… as _fierce _as the one that had materialized. The fact that there was something about it Marik couldn't see only further piqued his interest.

"So… you don't know its ability?" she asked.

Marik shook his head, and Serenity let that sink in before apparently deciding to try approaching the problem from a different angle. Tentatively, the girl walked towards where the warrior and dragon rested and stopped only a hairsbreadth in front of them. She hesitated for a moment, pausing as if to steel her courage, then reached out and touched the dragon's armored neck, eyes widening slightly when her hand made contact. The creature made a low purring noise, almost like an over-grown cat, and leaned into her touch. Serenity smiled, and her voice was impossibly gentle when she asked, "Can you tell me what you do?"

Seto wasn't sure how he expected the creature to respond, although he predicted a total lack of reaction, or maybe a shake of the warrior's head, but he could honestly say that he never in a million years would've expected the warrior to back the dragon away from Serenity and lead it towards _him_. He tensed, expecting an attack of some sort, then stared in disbelief when the dragon knelt before him, the warrior atop its back inclining its head in a show of obvious respect. He had no idea how to react at first, but for some reason the dragon's response to Serenity's touch came to mind, and he mimicked her gesture, reaching out to pet the fearsome creature.

The dragon raised its head so that it was looking directly at Seto, its glowing yellow eyes shining with something like determination… determination to…

_To protect, _he realized, looking at the deference in the creature's posture, the way it knelt before him as if a knight pledging allegiance to his king.

"This is what Isis had predicted… why she told me to watch for you," Marik muttered. "The odd fire at your Ceremony spoke of interesting things, and this even more so…" He took a deep breath, and declared more loudly, "Something is coming, Seto Kaiba and Serenity Wheeler. Something big, and something that involves you." His eyes went to Serenity. "Your spirit monster is intrinsically linked with Seto Kaiba, and though I can tell you nothing of how to play the Shadow Game, I suggest keeping that in mind when choosing your strategy." He looked to Seto. "You must consider that as well, Kaiba. It seems your destinies are connected. You would do well not to ignore that fact."

Seto immediately backed away from the dragon at the idea of destiny, ignoring the reproach in the creature's eyes, pretending not to notice the disappointment in the way the warrior on its back regarded him. He'd almost felt… _something_, when the warrior had bowed its head to him, but Marik's words made him remember himself. Dreams, spirit monsters, destiny… they meant nothing, and he wouldn't let himself be distracted by such ridiculousness when he needed his focus more than anything.

"I do not believe in destiny," he snapped. "I make my own fate, and I can guarantee it has nothing to do with Serenity Wheeler. In less than a _week_, we will be going into an arena where it is expected we kill each other." He shook his head in disgust. "If circumstances push us together, it will not be because we're _linked_. It will be because the field has narrowed enough that I have no choice but to kill her." He took another step away from Serenity's Paladin, which was beginning to look _angry_, and moved towards Marik instead. "The only thing happening in my future is an inevitable victory."

He glared at Marik and Serenity one last time before turning on a heel and storming from the room.

…

Seto was already pissed after his meeting with Marik when Pegasus b. When a trio of morons with ridiculous hair arrived and told him to take his clothes off, his mood declined to murderous. He gritted his teeth and glared icily at each of the three men, _daring _them to comment as he slowly disrobed, first taking off his jacket, then his shirt and slacks, before kicking his socks into the growing pile of clothes, and finally removing his underwear.

"Shit," Valon, a short man with big, spiky hair muttered under his breath. Seto's jaw ticked, and he resisted the urge to cover himself. For Mokuba. He had to suffer through this for Mokuba.

"I'd heard rumors about Gozaburo-"

"Shut. Up," Seto hissed, cutting off the one named Alistair. "Do what you must, but keep your mouths _shut_." He gestured to the scars on his back and chest, marks where his step-father's abuse was permanently tattooed into his flesh, and added lowly, "I lived through this. That means I know how to replicate it. Don't tempt me."

They dropped the matter without question.

Not that it made the afternoon an ounce more bearable. By the time Rafael, an absurdly large man with oddly styled blonde hair, declared Seto acceptable, he'd bathed in various substances that he was _certain _were various degrees of poisonous, had nearly every hair on his body removed, and suffered through a full-body makeover.

His jaw ached from being clenched so tightly, and there were little crescents carved into his palms where he'd dug his nails into his fingers to keep from choking the ignorant Capitol fools to death. They'd obviously sensed his tension—he couldn't imagine anyone dumb enough to have missed it, as his body had been stiff as a board the entire time—and had taken care not to touch him more than necessary, but it made the experience no less degrading. Given that he couldn't remember the last time anyone had seen him with anything less than a full suit on, there were few things he could think of that would've been more uncomfortable than letting strangers poke at and primp his naked body.

When the three finally left to call his stylist, Seto made a beeline for the thin robe they'd let him wear on and off and shrugged it on, tying it as tightly as possible around his waist. He spent the next few minutes taking deep, gasping breaths, trying to work some semblance of composure. He was torn between fury at his circumstances and self-consciousness at being thrown so far out of his comfort zone, but he did his best to focus on the fury, preferring to ignore the psychological aftershocks of his time under Gozaburo when there were so many other things he needed to worry about.

By the time his stylist—a man named Dartz—arrived, Seto was slightly less red-faced and somewhat convinced he could hold off killing something for the time being. The man, of course, looked as ridiculous as most others from the Capitol, with wild blue hair that fell almost to his feet, kept in some semblance of order only by a rope he'd tied around it where it hit the middle of his back. His eyes were two different colors, and he wore an odd chain around his head, with a jewel resting just above the juncture between his brows.

"Seto Kaiba," he said. "Manager of all District Three factories, and renowned inventor. Your spirit monster, it seems, is the dark warrior Duos. The first costumes are limited by time constraints, you understand… but I think I have something that will suit you quite well."

Seto rolled his eyes.

"I have no doubt it'll be stupid enough to appropriately appease you people."

"Such an attitude." He frowned deeply, as though extremely troubled. "I wouldn't be so callous if I were you. The importance of fashion should never be understated."

"Do you people ever shut up? I'm not an idiot—appearances are important. They'll be no more important if you bore me to death talking about them." He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to pretend he wasn't wearing a thin robe. "Now quit blabbering and show me what I'm wearing."

"Very well then," muttered Dartz. "Come, see what I have prepared."

…

It could have been worse. Seto told himself that as he followed Dartz to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. He was dressed from head to toe in navy blue and black, which wasn't bad in of itself, but the knee-high boots he'd been forced into, as well as the flowing black cape and stylized plates of fitted armor, struck him as tacky. The mask-like headdress he'd been given was designed in a manner similar to the plates on Duos's face and cloaked his features in a similar fashion, and Seto couldn't quite decide whether he found it pointless, irritating, or both.

He was less conflicted about the twenty-pound sword he'd been given to lug around. The hunk of metal was clearly pointless, irritating, _and _dangerous in the sense that he worried he'd shove it through his own skull before the night was out.

As if hours of dealing with his prep team wasn't enough, now he'd have to let himself be paraded all throughout the Capitol like a piece of prized livestock.

When he got home, he was locking himself in his room for weeks. Mokuba could enter, but that was _it_. He was tired of interacting with people, tired of being in a situation where nothing was under his control, and tired of pretending he cared about anything beyond getting home to his brother.

Serenity was standing alone near District Three's chariot when Seto arrived. Her stylist had done well enough that she actually looked somewhat pretty, and certainly more fierce than Seto was used to seeing from her. In fact, she reminded him almost of a warrior princess from the fairytales his mother had read to him as a child, wearing a fitted blue-white tunic over dark leggings, with gold and silver shin and arm guards, and a blue cape that matched her Paladin's almost exactly. A shield was fastened to one of her arms, and like Seto, she'd been given a sword to mimic her monster's.

Of course, any notion of her being a warrior was ruined when she turned to face him, her eyes made bigger with makeup and _too big_ with nervousness, and her features so innocent it made him uncomfortable to imagine she'd likely be dead before the end of the month.

"You look scary," said Serenity softly, when Seto came to a stop beside her. "Different, but powerful." She looked down at her own outfit. "Certainly not as silly as I probably do. I wish they would've put me in something else. It feels like I'm playing dress up with clothes that really _don't _fit."

He wondered at which point she'd decided it was a good idea to start talking to him like he cared. Sometime last night, he figured, probably after he hadn't reacted negatively to her cute little speech about wanting him to get home if she didn't.

He didn't like it. Not the way she treated him kindly, not her naïve stupidity, and he utterly _despised _the way her words made herseem human, instead of just Joey Wheeler's spineless chit of a sister.

He further disliked his apparent inability to crush her kindness with venom and insults. The technique he normally employed to keep people at a distance wouldn't work, not when he knew being cruel to Wheeler's sister would endanger his truce with the mutt. In yet another area, his hands were tied.

"You talk when you're nervous," Seto commented blandly, instead of answering her question. "You did the same thing this morning before we arrived."

Her cheeks colored.

"Sorry."

Seto adjusted his grip on his sword, lowering his eyes to study the ornate hilt. The blade looked nothing like the one Duos had been holding, not except for its absurd size, but then again, he supposed it wouldn't have been possible for them to fashion an identical sword in only a few hours.

"You look fine," he told his sword's hilt. "Not like you, but not 'silly.'"

His eyes flitted to the girl's face, but she didn't seem surprised that he'd responded. Another sign that she saw him as 'normal.' To her, it seemed there was no sense of pride in getting 'the ice cold Seto Kaiba' to talk. She appeared content to take the exchange as nothing more than what it was at face value.

It made him feel a bit more human, and a bit less walking iceberg. It also, he realized, calmed him down. He felt less pissed off than he'd been all afternoon, and fuck, he had no idea how to take that.

"Thanks," Serenity said. Her lips curved up into a smile.

He scowled and turned away.

Damn _good_ people. Made everything so fucking confusing.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before attendants started waving them to their places. Seto and Serenity were directed onto their chariots, and Dartz and Serenity's stylist adjusted the position of their bodies and directed them on how to hold their swords.

All too soon, the chariots began moving. Seto barely had time to plant his feet before Districts One and Two pulled away and the horses for Three's chariot started moving forward. Within moments, they were out of the tunnel and in front of millions of people. All eyes were immediately on them—not on the parade itself, but _on them _specifically, Seto recognized, because between Serenity's status as Joey Wheeler's sister and his own relative notoriety, they were probably fan favorites already. On the big board hanging over the square, pictures of their spirit monsters flashed over the live broadcast, and the cheering grew louder at the sight of the two relatively impressive creatures.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seto noticed Serenity start playing up her 'likable' angle as best she could, waving and smiling in a way that was somewhat believable. The crowd absolutely ate it up, and though his impassive staring was relatively unexceptionable in contrast, their reaction to him was no less enthusiastic. The marriage proposals started within the first few minutes, along with a chorus of 'I love yous' and a host of roses. He gifted the crowd with a distant smirk, and the noise level increased even further.

Obviously his stupid costume was more offensive to him than the idiots who were already eating out of the palm of his hand.

Finally, the chariots came to a stop in front of King Bakura's palace. The king himself stood above them on a large balcony, the picture of superfluous decadence. He wore an ancient headpiece, made of gold and fine fabrics and studded so thickly with jewels that Seto could see them glistening from where he sat. His crimson cloak was trimmed in fur and made of thick, rippling velvet, and on his fingers was a collection of gaudy rings that twinkled in the lights of the Capitol whenever he moved.

Most notable, however, was the Millennium Ring that glistened on his chest. The King was known to grant his most trusted servants temporary use of the Millennium Items when necessary—such as over the course of the Games, or for the purpose of certain ceremonial events—but he made an exception with the Ring, as had every king before him. They never went anywhere without it, prompting rumors that the item allowed them god-like power, omniscience, and even invincibility.

Seto thought the rumors were bullshit, but he had to admit that there was something about the king that made his pulse quicken, as though he were facing down a venomous snake and in danger of getting bitten should he made one false move.

He disliked the feeling exceedingly. If the bastard could make him uneasy from such a distance, how much worse would it be if he were to speak to him up close?

Irritated, Seto took his eyes off of Bakura and blatantly ignored the king's annual 'the gods appreciate your sacrifice' spiel. He glanced at the tributes, contemplating attempting to figure out what their spirit monsters were, then dismissed doing so in favor of waiting until the replays that evening. His eyes scanned the crowd next, but there was little of interest to be found. Everyone was staring at Bakura as though he shit solid gold.

He was about to turn his eyes away in disgust and settle for glaring at the bastard king when he noticed Marik in the stands, staring directly at him. The boy inclined his head politely when he saw Seto watching, then turned to whisper something to the woman next to him. Seto recognized her from previous years as Marik's sister, the Holder of the Necklace and Head Gamemaker. Isis Ishtar supposedly had the ability to see into the future, hence Marik's claim that the woman had warned him abut he and Serenity. More hocus pocus bullshit, but her naïve idiocy almost would've been forgivable if she'd followed a different career path.

The idea of orchestrating the death of children disgusted even him, and his glare went several degrees colder when she met his eyes. If his hostility affected her at all, it didn't show on her face, as she continued to study him impassively for a moment longer before she returned her attention to the king's speech.

Seto glowered a moment longer, then reluctantly did the same.

Eventually, Bakura concluded his speech and the chariots began to move once more. They rounded the City Circle again before disappearing into the bottom of the Training Center, where the tributes were to stay until the Games began.

Wheeler met them in the basement of the Training Center, his eyes bright with excitement as he hugged his sister and murmured, "Nice job, 'Ren," into her hair. Seto turned from the gag-worthy display and, after ignoring a congratulations from Pegasus, took a moment to glance briefly at the other tributes. Most looked uncomfortable, their eyes trained on the ground or their mentors, but it seemed the rest had taken to glaring at him, likely irritated at everyone's assumption that he'd be the tribute to watch.

He took care to glower twice as harshly back at them, and most of the morons looked away instantly. Tѐa Gardner of District One managed to break eye-contact with some dignity, sticking her nose in the air and flouncing off in the other direction as though it were her idea to turn away, and Ushio managed not to back down until his mentor told him it was time to go, but neither display of competence was especially alarming. Gardner looked like a twit, quite frankly, and although Seto didn't doubt she'd have an easy enough time coming up with sponsors, it was unlikely she'd know enough to use them wisely.

Ushio, on the other hand, would be a more immediate threat, but only if they faced off directly. The boy looked stupid, and certainly appeared the type to rely on his muscles to solve problems. He'd have to be one of the tributes Seto waited to eliminate until near the end of the Games, once Duos had gained strength from taking out weaker tributes.

"Kaiba," Serenity said softly, and Seto looked to see that the others had already started to leave. He started after them, unsure why he wasn't more irritated than he was when Serenity lagged behind so she could fall into step next to him.

"Did you see Isis watching us?" she asked, keeping her voice hushed. "She's the one Marik was talking about-"

"I know," Seto ground out. _Now _he was irritated. "And yes, I saw." His eyes focused intently on her face. "I meant what I said earlier, Wheeler. I don't give a shit that your spirit monster is apparently _fond _of me. Whatever destiny they think we have is bullshit."

"I saw your face when I talked about the dreams, you know," she murmured. "I think you have them too. And your eyes, and my dragon…" They neared the elevator, and she dropped her voice further as she looked up at him with big, excited eyes. "It has to mean _something, _Seto. It can't be coincidence."

He gritted his teeth.

"Kaiba."

"What?"

"I never gave you permission to use my first name," he said.

Serenity made a face, but he blatantly ignored her, refusing to acknowledge that she had a point, and that a small part of him believed that more would happen over the next few weeks than he was prepared to accept.

…

**Author's Note: **

**Thanks for the initial show of support. I'm glad you like the story so far, and I hope the sentiment doesn't change now that some of the intricacies of the Shadow Games have been better explained. Some things will be explained better later, but for now I'll stick with saying that the summoning spirit monsters bit won't be canonical as far as Season 5 goes. Some things simply didn't translate, so I've made a tweak or two. Nothing major, but you'll probably see them as it happens. The DiaDhanks, for one, are going to be different; I hadn't wanted to include them at all since I didn't think they were necessary in the dub, but I did need them here, and I had to change how they work slightly for them to make sense. All that will come up later, but I figured I should offer a warning/explanation for anyone who's wondering. If you've got any other questions about things that've popped up that you don't figure the story will cover, please ask away. **

**Anyway, I love getting feedback and look forward to hearing what you have to say. Constructive criticism is much appreciated. **

**LITY **


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